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by BlueMoonHound



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coronavirus mention, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrations, Videogames, work mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27277831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMoonHound/pseuds/BlueMoonHound
Summary: Latula comes home from work. Mituna makes sure her day gets better.
Relationships: Mituna Captor/Latula Pyrope
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: HSCCS Fall Promptfest 2020





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jokess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokess/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Jokess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokess/pseuds/Jokess) in the [HSCCSFallPromptfest2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HSCCSFallPromptfest2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> I can make the same request again, right? Right. Let's call it wish fulfillment.
> 
> There are not enough Mituna/Latula prompts featuring them as the only and primary couple in a relationship that's happy, healthy and working post accident. (There will never be be enough, but that's besides the point.) I'd like to see someone delve into their relationship, the nuts, bolts and possibly even kinks. Hell, turn the usual formula I've seen around and do something where Latula has a bad day and Mituna is there for her. Just don't have either of them play caretaker/mom/dad/etc to the other, they're adults, they're a couple, their mental health is a hot mess sometimes, but they make it work. Smut not necessary, but bonus points if it is there.
> 
> .

You’re tired, and work has had you up late, too-- It’s nearly nine PM by the time you get home, dragging your feet through the door to an empty living room. Assuming Mituna isn’t home, you collapse onto the couch. He said he had work til seven today, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have to stay late either. Shitty food service jobs are no bueno, but it’s all he could get on disability.

You drag two dirty hands down your face. You’re going to have to get up again. You need to change, and shower, then you have a few emails to write, and yeah, you could put them off til tomorrow, but you want to spend tomorrow doing absolutely nothing. It’s your day off, and you want to have it free.

Your dreary thoughts are interrupted when your chipper boyfriend bursts through the door. “I GOT MCDONALZ!” he shouts into the messy space.

You flick your ears back and laugh. “Hey tunafish!”

“You wanna fucking burgus this bich?” he says, dropping a big mac on your lap unceremoniously. “A lil bird told me that work is stupid.”

“Whomstve?” you ask, opening the box and eating. You can’t believe you forgot that you need dinner, but now that he’s reminded you, you’re ravenous.

“Meenah,” he replies. “She clocked out earlier than youf, she said it was awful in that bitch.”

“It was awful in that bitch, bro,” you sigh. “Jegus on a bike. This one guy really wanted to use the fitting room? I’m like no, bro, it’s a fucking pandemic, I mean, I didn’t say it like that, but you get me.”

“Customerz fuckin suck,” he agrees. “Din’ have too many bad ones today, but yanno, I don’t work front.” He takes a big bite of his burger. “At least theres mcnaldos! I like the it.”

You cackle. It’s not that funny, but the way he’s grinning with ketchup on his chin adds to the flavor of the meme.

“Wish I didn’t have so much work to do,” you sigh, staring at a fallen pickle. “I still have school emails to write or I’m never gonna finish this degree.”

“You got tomorrow for that! Tonites amungus night with dam n porrum n john. Amungus n chill.”

“I also need to shower,” you gripe.

“What if I just lick u clean?” Mituna asks, sticking out his tongue. “Liiiiiic,” he says as best he can without it behind his teeth. He takes another bite of his burger.

You wrinkle your nose. “I’ll be quick,” you say, finishing the sandwich. “Five minutes.”

“You better be!” he says.

You stick your tongue out at him and hurry up the stairs.

When you come back down, Mituna is eating his fries with ice cream, the gaming laptop already plugged into the TV and turned on, Among Us waiting on the screen. He tosses you a controller, and you catch it handily, because you’re a sophisticated gamer who can do cool shit. He’s already thrown away the dinner trash, amazing, so you plop yourself back down on the couch and hit play.

Mituna wipes his mouth with the back of his arm and grabs his controller off the armrest. You take a deep breath, and he leans onto your shoulder. It’s going to be okay.


End file.
